


Ashes to Ashes

by clubstocrews23



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:44:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clubstocrews23/pseuds/clubstocrews23
Summary: It's probably better if Sander and Robbe never see each other again, and Sander knows it.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





	Ashes to Ashes

Even before the fight, Sander knew he wouldn’t be going home with Robbe. His plan for after their date had been set in stone even before he and Robbe arrived at the bar. He’d written it down millions of times in notebook after notebook instead of drawing pictures. He'd spray-painted it against the wall in his mind. It was time for Sander to return to Britt and his safe way of life before he had a chance to hurt anyone else. 

  
These past weeks, in bed with Robbe, breathing in Robbe, were nothing more than a pipe dream. He couldn’t have possibly predicted them, and they turned his model for life on its head, but now he had to return to the graphs and proven solutions. He couldn’t keep pushing past reality for his own selfish means; that was a symptom of mania. 

  
In the bar, he almost found it in himself to fend off Robbe’s kisses. 

  
When he caved, and dragged Robbe outside, he almost lost sight of what was supposed to happen. He imagined living with Robbe. He imagined sinking into the blankets on Robbe’s bed every morning, cooking him breakfast, and laughing at one of his stupid jokes during the early hours of the morning. He thought about telling Robbe about what had happened with his mother, the awful ways he’d hurt her in the middle of an episode, the way he’d never be able to come back from it. There was even a moment, a brief shining moment, he could imagine Robbe hugging him after this revelation. They could be okay.

  
It was sick, and it was traumatizing, but being kicked repeatedly in the gut reminded Sander of the most important fact that he knew: no matter how much he loved people, or how much he cared for them, he would always be a catalyst in their distress. 

  
Everything was and would be his fault. 

  
Robbe and Sander went to the emergency room together. Robbe complained that his ribs were hurting something awful, so Sander figured it would be best to get them checked out by a professional. It would be unethical to send Robbe on his own. Sander knew this rationalization was his mind stalling for time before he needed to rip himself out of Robbe’s life for good, but he pretended that it wasn’t. 

  
They pushed through the double doors, each with one arm. Sander thought it could be a picture, two boys in love entering the hospital in sync. Two of a kind. Soulmates, even. He could capture their dynamic as a pair—the dynamic he knew he needed to destroy—as well as the harsh reality in which they lived in a single frame to be printed and displayed. 

  
His camera! Where had it fallen? Did he drop it outside of the bar, or perhaps, did he leave it inside when they went out? He couldn’t afford to lose it; that was the only item he owned with any real value, and it had the photos of Robbe he would look at to remember what his love’s brown eyes looked like. He wanted to draw them. He wanted to sketch the outlines of Robbe’s ribs in charcoal, paint the light in his eyes with oils and acrylics. 

Too late to turn around, though. Always too late. He didn’t panic. They picked seats right next to the receptionist’s desk, and Sander leafed through the magazines on a side table to keep his hands busy.

  
He’d had a script to follow before they left the bar. It didn’t mean much anymore. A full goodbye at this point would be rubbing salt in Robbe’s wounds… it wasn’t the time. It also allowed for a chance that Robbe would forgive him in the future, and he didn’t trust himself with that opportunity. Whatever he did after tonight had to be swift and unforgivable.

  
“There was a minute there,” Robbe whispered as they sat in the waiting room, “that I thought you were going to leave me. Can you believe that?”   
This was the first word he’d spoken since they’d gotten up from the ground. Sander remembered the first time he’d been beaten up like this, lying outside the laundromat covered in blood. He didn’t speak for weeks after the incident, which only prompted more condemnation from his family members as they batted him around. They knew what he’d be, even then. He knew it too; he’d already envisioned the terrible things he was going to do to them when he had the chance. 

  
Psychopathic, that’s how he’d describe it. The thought was so nasty, Sander almost gagged. 

  
He disguised it as words. “Is that so?” Hopefully his tone was light. 

  
“I thought you were running away and leaving me there to deal with everything all by myself.”

  
_That’s exactly what I’m going to do_ , thought Sander. Britt was probably waiting for him already, with open arms to welcome him home. He didn’t have to worry about hurting Britt; she was consistent. 

  
“I could never leave you behind,” Sander heard himself reply. In its own way, it was the truth.

  
He looked up, met Robbe’s eyes, stared deep into them. In the absence of a camera, he would take a picture of this moment in his mind. He could already see the blood springing to the surface of Robbe’s skin underneath his eyes and along his cheekbone. It would be enough to make him sick, but the soft smile along Robbe’s lips kept him entranced in the beauty of the boy across from him.

  
_This is the reason why_ , he told himself. _You love him, so you’re going to let him go._

  
Robbe moved to give him a playful punch on the shoulder, stopping short in realization of what had just happened to the both of them. “You better not.

  
Sander bit back the apology on the tip of his tongue. “I just told you I wouldn’t.” The more he indulged his true feelings now, the harder it would be for Robbe to forgive him later. That way, he couldn’t just go running back during an episode and put Robbe in the crosshairs of his pathetic need for self-destruction once more. A kiss seemed inappropriate. He gave Robbe his hand to hold between their chairs, and quoted his goodbye in the form of a lyric. “I’m happy, I hope you’re happy too.”


End file.
